


Have a Nice Day

by stopcallingmeapollo (GayMarauders)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Screenplay/Script Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 06:28:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11526456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayMarauders/pseuds/stopcallingmeapollo
Summary: Courf shows up late to work, and things just get worse (and weirder) from there. At least he's got Grantaire, right?





	Have a Nice Day

_ GRANTAIRE (around 23, dark hair, wearing a white shirt and black apron with tattoo sleeves visible on his forearms) stands behind the counter in a small cafe, colouring in his tattoos with a magic marker and studiously ignoring the waiting customer. Quiet piano music plays over the speaker system. Suddenly COURFEYRAC (20, rather short, with curly brown hair, wearing a fashionable outfit and mismatched socks) slams open the door, running quickly between customers and vaulting over the counter, much to the distaste of the elderly woman at the head of the line. Grabbing an apron from a hook and tying it quickly around his waist, he types his code into the computer.  _

GRANTAIRE: Long night? 

COURFEYRAC: No, I just overslept…need to get my phone fixed this week, the clock is off by an hour and I can't seem to reset anything. (turning) What can I do for you, ma’am?

OLD LADY: Do you put oregano in any of your baked goods?

COURFEYRAC: What? No, they’re pastries.

OLD LADY: I’m allergic to oregano.

COURFEYRAC: That’s...we don’t put it in our food, ma’am, we make cookies and coffee.

OLD LADY: Humph. I’ll just take a black coffee.

COURFEYRAC: Coming right up, ma’am.

_ Courfeyrac turns around and goes to make the coffee; the woman, however, does not leave her place. _

GRANTAIRE: Um....can I….can I help you?

OLD LADY: I’m hungry.

GRANTAIRE: Would you like to order something to eat or...?

OLD LADY: I need something I can take home to my cats.

GRANTAIRE: You might want to try the pet store down the road.

OLD LADY: How about anchovies? Do you have anything with anchovies?

GRANTAIRE: No, this is a coffee shop, not a fish market.

OLD LADY: Well--I never! May I speak to a manager?

GRANTAIRE: (dramatically) I  _ am  _ the manager.

OLD LADY: Well--you--I--

COURFEYRAC: Ma’am, your coffee is ready.

_ The old lady takes it, sniffs, and walks away. There are no more customers around, so Grantaire sidles over to Courfeyrac. _

GRANTAIRE: So what  _ scintillating  _ new man has walked into your life to make you late?

COURFEYRAC: I told you, my alarm didn’t go off. I see that word-a-day calendar I gave you for Christmas is getting some use, though. 

GRANTAIRE: Yeah, I’ve started sounding a little  _ bombastic  _ lately.

COURFEYRAC: (high-fiving Grantaire) Ay, nice one.

GRANTAIRE: You seriously weren’t on a date though?

COURFEYRAC: Would I lie to you? Between school, work, and my sister’s wedding planning, I haven’t been out in a month. I’m getting desperate here man, where’s the tall, dark, and handsome prince Disney promised me?

GRANTAIRE: Disney is just like the baby boomers, capitalist scum who don’t deliver...also I’ m not sure Walt really planned on providing Prince Charmings for  _ us _ .

COURFEYRAC: Damn.

_ Suddenly, a huge rush begins. Several patrons enter, including COMBEFERRE (tall, dark, and handsome, wearing a red shirt and a leather jacket). Combeferre is second in line, behind the old lady who’s quickly becoming the bane of Courfeyrac’s existence. _

_ Courfeyrac looks around to see if Grantaire will take the next customer, but he’s occupied with his phone. Sighing, he takes OLD LADY as well. _

COURFEYRAC: (sighing) Hi, what can I get for you?

OLD LADY: I think the soap dispenser in the bathroom is broken. When I tried to use it this strange foam came out.

COURFEYRAC: That’s how soap dispensers work.

OLD LADY: Well you don’t have to take that tone with me, young man, I just thought you should know.

COURFEYRAC: Thank you. Would you like to buy anything?

OLD LADY: How’s your coffee?

COURFEYRAC: It’s...very...moist. Weren’t you just--

OLD LADY: Ah, good. I’ll take a big one.

COURFEYRAC: What kind--oh, nevermind. One big coffee, coming up. And this one’s on the house, somehow I think you need it.

_ Combeferre is next in line. Courfeyrac goes to serve him, but suddenly Grantaire jumps in front of him. Courfeyrac rolls his eyes and leans back against the counter. _

GRANTAIRE: Hey man! How’s it going?

COMBEFERRE: Great, thanks!

GRANTAIRE: Haven’t seen you in a while, when’s your next gig?

COMBEFERRE: Tonight, actually, I was hoping to treat myself beforehand. I can probably swing some tickets for you if you want!

GRANTAIRE: Ah thanks man, that’s great. How’s Andy, by the way?

COMBEFERRE: (awkwardly) Um, actually, that...didn’t really work out. 

GRANTAIRE: Too bad. Anyway, that’s a short Earl Grey, with whip right?

COMBEFERRE: Yeah, how’d you remember?

GRANTAIRE: Ah, you know, best barista in town…

COMBEFERRE: Right. So how much--

GRANTAIRE: Oh tell him, Courf will make it.

_ Grantaire turns around and goes on his phone, winking at Courfeyrac as he slacks off. Courfeyrac shoots him a dirty look as he walks up to the register. _

COURFEYRAC: Uh, sorry, what can I get you, sir?

_ Courfeyrac tips his head back, eyes trailing up until he sees Combeferre’s (very handsome) face. It’s clear he’s not paying attention anymore. _

COMBEFERRE: A short Earl Grey with whip, please.

_ Courfeyrac is still dazzled by the man before him. _

COURFEYRAC: I’m sorry, could you repeat that? 

COMBEFERRE: A short Earl Grey with whip. 

_ Courfeyrac takes Combeferre’s card and rings up his drink, then fumbles through making the tea as Grantaire watches, completely unhelpful. He finally finishes, somehow managing to spill on himself only once. _

COURFEYRAC: Short Earl Grey with whip for…um...Tall....man? 

_ A deep peal of laughter echoes from the corner. Combeferre stands up from the chair he was sitting in, and comes to collect his drink. _

COMBEFERRE: (winking) Thank you, curly man.

COURFEYRAC: Have a--a nice  **_gay_ ** !

_ Everything freezes for a moment as he realizes what he said, eyes widening. Grantaire laughs. It’s not until his phone buzzes that he snaps back to reality. Grantaire is now standing directly behind Courfeyrac, smirking. He leans in and whispers conspiratorially. _

GRANTAIRE: His name is Combeferre, and I just texted you his number. His band’s playing a gig tonight, and--wouldja look at that? You’ve got a night off I forgot to tell you about! Have fun.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a modified piece I wrote for a class last year (using different names, of course). I've never posted a script as fanfic before, but if there's interest I'd love to expand and do a collection of short plays about Les Amis in this universe! Comment if you'd like to see more (and if so, what pairings/characters/situations).  
> You can also check out my tumblr at @stopcallingmeapollo for info on prompts and commissions.


End file.
